I’m on to you, Internet. Now I’m putting pictures of Penny between the words so you’ll at least have to skim by and one or two might lodge themselves into your eye.
This method will also conveniently disguise the fact that nothing I have to say is related to anything else that I have to say.
Penny eats with pinky up on the regular. I am not even fucking with you.
I want you to know some things about Phil. I think I make him sound pretty good on this blog. Sometimes, even when I am attempting to show you what a butt mouth he can be, the comments reflect the fact that many of you are impressed by Phil and I assume by his tolerance of me. I swear, it’s like he’s some kind of goddamn mesmer or something, the way people are all, “Team Phil! We back you in this lifelong endeavor of being married to this woman!”
YOU KNOW WHAT?
I tolerate HIM, TOO.
– always, without fail, points the shower head all cockeyed when he gets out of the shower.
– insists – INSISTS – on calling “Baba O’Riley” TEENAGE WASTELAND, even though he knows DAMN WELL that is NOT what it is called.
– will call whatever I am watching “the worst show ever,” making it sound as though I am torturing him by forcing him to watch the ONE SHOW IN THE WORLD he finds intolerable. Law & Order: SVU and Roseanne can’t BOTH be the worst show in the world, Phil. It’s not possible.
– I’ve been using Pandora since 2004, and if you’re a Pandora user, you know what that means – my stations are AWESOME [to me]. Years of work, people. Years. Thumbing and thumbing and thumbing. Since we are now sharing one computer in the living room and also have a television that can play Pandora, I shared the log in details of my account so that we could listen while cleaning and doing shit around the house, like you do, you know?
I trusted him with my stations.
If Phil’s SO GREAT, Internet, why is my Bon Jovi station playing so much Dr. Dre?
I went to get my My Brest Friend pillow for Penny’s snack between Early Breakfast and Mid-Morning Second Breakfast/1st Lunch Preview and came back to find a note propped next to her:
“FELL ASLEEP WAITING FOR SERVICE.”
So, Phil’s first Father’s Day is coming up. Now, I have a father, so I’d like to think I’m pretty well prepared to handle this, except Phil doesn’t wear ties.
So, basically, I’m not prepared at all.
Ok, I sort of am. This is going to make me sound all 1950s housewife, but I don’t often have any money of my own. It’s not like you’re thinking. I’ve had a variety of issues with my car, so when we go places, we’re all together. Phil and I share bank accounts so when we’re out, it’s not really a big deal of who pays – it’s usually him, but if I’m closer to the register, I’ll swipe my card. It’s all the same.
But since we’re usually together and since every place takes check cards these days, I don’t usually carry any cash. That means whenever I do spend any money, it’s with my card and comes right out of the bank account with a nice label of where I’ve been.
Which I am TOTALLY ALLOWED TO DO. WHENEVER I WANT. Just so you know.
What I’m saying is that I don’t really get the opportunity to be stealth, or to feel like I’m purchasing something for Phil on my own – not just, you know, buying something. From our joint account.
HOWEVER, Phil does like to carry cash. And when we’re out together and he pulls out some cash, he usually hands me a $20 as well, assuming that I, too, would like to carry cash.
It’s not an allowance. In case you were thinking that. I have access to ALL the money, WHENEVER I want. Not that I need to explain our financials to you. I’m just explaining them a little. So you understand.
Right, so, Phil gives me this money because even though it doesn’t usually occur to me, he’s a thoughtful guy and considers the fact that I might want to do some autonomous spending – to have some money of my own, separate from the budget, to do whatever I please.
Pretty much without fail, I use said money to buy us both Coldstone.
HOWEVER. Recently, I have been squirreling said money. So. All of this to say, I’ve got some money. Money that has been removed from the bank account, thus from the joint budget, handed to me, and then promptly forgotten.
So, while all of our money is OUR money, it is safe to say that this bunch I have been poking away into a hidey hole is most assuredly MY money.
Now, I still have no idea what to DO with it, but I will spend it on an item or a dinner of his choosing. I realize that I have not come up with a thoughtful gift to mark his first Father’s Day, but I’m hoping that, “Hey, you know how money is kind of tight right now? Here, you choose how to spend this money I have been hoarding instead of immediately spending on Peanut Butter Cup Perfections” will totally be one of those “thought that counts” deals.
IN SUMMATION: It’s hard to buy gifts when you share a bank account, because some of the essential GIFTY-NESS is stripped away. Also, I’m a poor planner.
You guys. Knee dimple.
A couple of people have already asked me for a post about my experiences with cloth diapers, which I guess I can understand, considering how constantly I sought out blog posts and forum posts and all kinds of other information on how it all WORKED.
However, there are SO many out there that I really don’t think I have anything new to say. Aside from the fact that she’s only been in her cloth for a week-ish now. She goes in the diapers and then I wash them. I know, I know, there’s 8000 “But what about!!!” questions, and I had them, too, but honestly, getting into it, that’s really what it’s come down to so far. She goes, and I wash them.
Maybe a little farther down the road I’ll have a system down enough that I’ll write something about, you know, what I do, personally, but as far as general cloth diapering information, there is SO MUCH out there that I don’t have anything new to say at this point.
I put cloth on Penny as much as possible, usually sticking to prefolds and covers when it’s just me and her and switching to pockets when Phil is home, because dude will not deal with prefolds. And even the pockets, if I don’t put one IN HIS HAND, he will ferret out one of the last tiny sized disposables in the house and put it on her butt. He’s accepted and okay with the fact that we will be doing cloth, but is going to hang on to disposables until we absolutely run out, and even then, I can imagine him rigging up some kind of duct tape/paper towel creation.
I’m sure he’ll make the switch just fine (once he can no longer find a disposable anywhere in the house), but he is still refusing cloth wipes. I have some very nice, very soft, good sized flannel wipes and a spray bottle of wipe solution, so it is not only JUST as easy (and, I think, more butt-luxurious) as disposable wipes, but it also saves having to carry a dirty disposable wipe to a second location.
Phil doesn’t make any kind of sense when it comes to baby poop, people.
But really, who does?
At my last appointment with Dr. Nameless, he checked my c-section incision and said, “You healed awesome. That looks great. I’m really psyched.”
Yes, he said psyched.
Obviously, as a doctor who sees c-section incisions all the time, we must assume that not every incision inspires psych-itude. I mean, come on. If he was going to blow smoke up my ass, Penny was sitting RIGHT THERE. He could have complimented my baby, not my be-stripe-ed belly, you know?
We can only conclude that I have healed extra well.
If you’ve been reading this site since the dawn of time (which is what I consider the day I started writing this site because, come on, who cares what went on in the world before that day?), you know what this means. I am reaching way back into the sands of time and adding this spectacular awesomeness of midsection healery to the evidence file.
Remember how I told you about how we tried to buy a Nook, but it never came, and Phil spent literal HOURS on the phone with Barnes & Noble customer service trying to get one/get a refund, and then ordered a second one because the first one was NEVER COMING and even though we PRE-ORDERED a Nook and were supposed to have one on June 3rd, we still remain Nookless, almost 2 weeks after the early release date and PAST the SCHEDULED release date, and got ZERO HELP from Barnes & Noble, and I was in a fury so intense that I ACTUALLY TWEETED at the Barnes & Noble person on Twitter, which I have NEVER DONE IN MY LIFE?
Yeah, we cancelled the orders and bought a Kindle.
And MOMENTS LATER, the Barnes & Noble person on Twitter decided to respond – asking me to write to customer service.
We ordered a Kindle yesterday and it will be here today. I’m done with Mr. Barnes Noble. Up his.